Making of Amends
by Not-Willing-to-Admit
Summary: Looking back, Phil Coulson realized that Mike Peterson requesting to be Felix Blake's asset wasn't the oddest request he had ever received as the Director. No, that request had been when Felix Blake demanded to be Mike Peterson's handler.


"Excited about seeing Ace next weekend?" Felix Blake asked his asset, Agent Mike Peterson. With a slight wince that he was unsuccessful at completely disguising, the senior agent shifted his weight in his chair in an failed attempt to obtain some relief from the ever present discomfort.

Mike made a non-committal response to his handler's question which cause Blake's eyes to narrow as he focused on his prey. The distraction gave him a temporary relief from his various complaining body parts. Plus, he was a nosy bastard.

Only because he **_cared_** , you understand.

"Somehow I thought you'd be happier," prompted Felix. "He's been at Mindy's for six months now, and… I know you miss him, Mike."

And because he cared in own unique Felixastic way, he showed it in his Felixastic style. Felix never called Mike Peterson, Peterson or Mr. Peterson in their private conversations. He was always **_MIKE_**. And Felix never, ever called Mike **_Deathlok_** , even in his reports to Coulson. Though it was his accepted SHIELD code name; because… Deathlok was a monster, Deathlok was the monstrosity that thrived and terrorized Felix in his darkest nightmares; Deathlok had broken Felix so badly that Felix had nearly given up. That monster… whatever it had been… it hadn't been **_Mike_**.

HYDRA had taken Mike's humanity from him and turned him into Deathlok; and Felix would never call him by that name.

Mike was a single father who been blackmailed with threats to his son. When Felix's life had been nearly choked out of him, he had gasped what he thought were his final words…. Father to Father… Even then, with Deathlok's hand tightly wrapped around Felix's throat, he had refused to believe that all of Mike's humanity had been corrupted by HYDRA. No, not after pouring over Mike's personnel files and realizing what made the man tick.

 _ **ACE.**_

 _Mr. Peterson... stop. You have a son - Ace. He needs you. We can still help you, Mike._

There had been a spark of humanity in Mike's eyes, before Deathlok had reared its ugly head.

 _Mike Peterson is dead._

But Mike had retained enough of his humanity not to kill Felix Blake. A little harder kick with his cybernetic leg and Felix would have died. There had been extremely dark days when Felix Blake believed that gesture hadn't been one of compassion.

These days, Mike was… **_almost_** … a friend.

And having lost Hand, Jacobson and Shaw to Grant Ward, Felix didn't have a great many friends. There was Isabelle Hartley, but Izzie was still mourning Vic by focusing her rage and grief into taking down HYDRA. Izziebell was away on Coulson's business (Oops, Sorry, Director Coulson's business) more than she was there. Plus there was that small issue where Izzie believed that Vic's dying wish was to get the bisexual Felix settled down.

Seriously, Vic's dying wish had not been THAT. Knowing Hand for as long as he had, Felix Blake knew that Victoria Hand's dying wish was that someone would kill John Garrett with celestial bonus points given for the most painful and creative way possible. Her final thought had NOT been to get Felix Blake laid.

These days, Felix wasn't much of a catch even if his dating pool was most of the free world. Coughing caused him to be fearful of breaking a rib; stairs were the bane of his existence and… he wasn't looking for companionship. Because everyone left... sooner or later. Everyone did.

Even his children had taken his ex-wife's side in their divorce and he wasn't wanted by them.

While he wasn't looking, he was weary of his solitary life; tired of sneaking in late to his grandchildren's concerts and sporting events when he was less likely to be seen and clandestinely scoping out the seemingly mandatory bake sales at the barely within driving distance Food Mart so he could try to buy his daughter-in-law's Bacon Chocolate Chip cookies. (They were, however, the best damn cookies he ever had and well worth the required Top Secret logistics and the long drive as they were a perfect mixture of sweet and salty).

And Mike would sit at the lunch table with him when Felix managed to stagger down to the cafe, unless the cool kids (Coulson's Pet Project aka Earthquake Girl, Mack, Fitz and Trip) invited Mike first. They would occasionally meet at Felix's apartment for a game, food and beer. It was… **_nice_** …

"They haven't been able to duplicate the nano mask," Peterson explained. He gestured at his scarred face, crisscrossed with old burns. "I look like a freak. I'd like to think that he wouldn't care, but… "

"Let me ask R&D. They might have something," offered Felix.

* * *

Two days later, Felix presented Mike with a nondescript white tub and what appeared to be a set of spackling tools. There was also a small bottle, a plastic container of sponges, spray can and a large package of wetnaps.

"Mike, your Mary Kay order arrived," Felix informed his asset.

Mike's response was rude, crude, socially unacceptable and most assuredly something most handlers wouldn't accept from their asset. Felix snorted a laugh as he readily admitted he wasn't a very good handler.

"They said that you can cover the scars with this. The regimen should also help soften the scars."

Noncommittal response.

"So coming over for the game?" Felix asked. "I'll order Italian unless you want something different."

"That's fine. Point spread?"

Even though they never truly wagered anything on the point spread, it did give the winner a certain vindication and bragging rights for their next day in the office. Felix offered a range and then Mike snorted his disbelief. "My boys are gonna own yours."

"Oh, did they get a new quarterback?" Felix asked. He managed to pull himself into a standing position, and located his arm crutches with a minimum of fuss. "New coach too? See you on Saturday. Wear your Mary Kay."

* * *

Mike Peterson knew that Director Coulson had been quite surprised that he had requested Felix Blake for his handler.

"Felix Blake?" Coulson had parroted.

"Yes, if I have the opportunity to input on whom I would prefer as a handler, I'd like it to be him," Mike admitted.

"Of all the people here, I think Felix Blake would be your last choice. Your last meeting was… traumatic…" Coulson was deliberate in his choice of wording and Mike flinched because he still endured nightmares of the exact moment he had crushed Felix's chest. "Why do you want Felix Blake to be your handler? You would have to work with him very closely and he is very much by the book."

"Is he good?" Mike asked.

"He's strict. He's been the handler for several of our best field agents."

"Then I'd like him to be my handler," Mike stated. "I want to be one of the best field agents you have, Director Coulson. He sounds like the type of handler I need so I can break any bad habits I might have picked up through my travels."

"Mike, let's have a serious conversation that will be completely off the record." Phil Coulson sat on the edge of his desk and looked very sincere. "Mike, you nearly killed him the only time you two met. He nearly coded… **_three_** … separate times on the Bus, Mike. When SHIELD fell, he barely escaped with his life as HYDRA overran the medical facility. He and Agent Hartley commandeered an ambulance, loaded it up with only the SHIELD personnel they thought they could trust and then Bonnie and Clyde ran over three HYDRA agents and a fire hydrant in their zeal to escape. Why the **_hell_** do you want to be his asset?"

"I read something one time that stuck with me. It said that the beginning of atonement is the sense of its necessity. It is necessary that I atone … especially to Felix Blake… If I want to be a SHIELD agent, if I ever want to be able to look my son in the eyes again, I have to face Felix Blake…" Mike Peterson softly confessed.

Phil Coulson looked away from Mike and he stared at the SSR logo for some time.

"Felix Blake failed his employee physical. Physically, he's not fit to be an agent. However, I need his brain. You take this assignment, you will protect Felix Blake at all costs. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Director. I understand. If necessary to convince him of my sincerity, I will speak to Agent Blake directly and make my request."

Phil Coulson then looked at Mike and smiled. "Then it's a very good thing that Felix Blake requested to be your handler."

" ** _What_**?" Mike asked. The universe was all topsy-turvy and swirly-whirly as there was no way in hell Felix Blake would request that… "He… **_requested_** …me?"

"Yes, he felt he would be the only one here willing to give you a fair chance. Report to him tomorrow at nine am."

The walk to Felix Blake's office had been literally the worst experience of his life. Not even… being … used by HYDRA…compared... because Mike remembered Felix Blake's dying words…

 _Mr. Peterson... stop. You have a son - Ace. He needs you. We can still help you, Mike._

When they had met again, thanks to Deathlok's technology, Mike had known that Blake's blood pressure had gone sky high, his pulse rate had skyrocketed and the senior agent had displayed every single sign of being absolutely terrified of his new asset, Mike Peterson. Yet the agent had persevered; presented a serene façade, calmly greeted him and then wryly informed him that they'd have walk to the cafeteria as they were the topic of conversation. "Let's give the kids a show, shall we?" Felix had snarked even as he had struggled to stand.

When Mike had wished to apologize what had happened between them, Felix Blake had cut him off with a quiet, "We're both fathers, Mike. Our kids are the **_universe_** to us."

That had been the start of a solid relationship. Mike had gotten comfortable with Felix's voice in his ear on his various missions because he learned to trust the acerbic Blake. Of all the agents he dealt with on a daily and not so daily basis, Mike Peterson understood that Blake was the only one that **_always_** saw him as Mike Peterson, not Mike Peterson: Human Rocket Launcher, Mike Peterson: Deathlok, Mike Peterson: SHIELD Agent.

Every mission he returned from, no matter what the time, no matter his own personal pain, Felix Blake met him. His handler sat in on every debriefing; insisted that his asset be given sufficient time to recover before being sent out again and just… protected… Mike from his over-enthusiasm. There had been a few snarky comments from an exhausted Hunter about Mike getting a spa vacay in between assignments that Felix had overheard.

"Hunter, you have to realize there's a difference between you and Peterson," Felix stated.

"Yes, I'm not the six million dollar man," Lance had quipped while Mike had scowled. "Sorry, mate, but you are."

"I view my asset as more than a tool which once broken can be easily thrown away and replaced. Shame your handler doesn't feel the same way. Perhaps you should talk to her about it?" Felix had continued. "Peterson – go to medical, get that laceration looked at. You know my rules, unless I excuse you, no debriefing until you're cleared by medical. Get that closed, Peterson."

"Yes, sir."

Hunter had pouted and Mike had stuck his tongue out.

Besides Skye/Daisy, Felix Blake was the only one that understood how much the separation from Ace pained him. Felix was a family man, (divorced) but with a gaggle of grandkids that he'd visit on the weekends. (And a daughter-in-law who was quite the baker as Felix would share her cookies with him.)

Plus there was that overwhelming guilt that Felix Blake's physical and yes…. Emotional condition was his fault. Not that Blake ever voiced his belief that his current circumstance was due to Mike, but Mike was familiar with his vitals…the moments when Blake was in pain, and those horrible moments when Felix was overwhelmed with fear because he **_remembered_** and was **_reliving_** Mike Peterson's attack.

So for those reasons and many more, because Felix had obviously sweet talked (ok, threatened) R&D into releasing the concealer for his use, Mike Peterson attempted to play with the cosmetics before he went to Felix for the Bills/Patriots game. Attempted to swirl and blend and… spackle… resulted with him looking even worse than his norm, so he removed the concealer. He was tempted to toss all of it out, because there was no way he could visit Ace wearing THAT…

* * *

On Saturday, Mike arrived late, almost when the game started. Felix noticed that while the weather outside was brisk, a very subdued Mike was wearing a scarf and sunglasses. He also did not comment on the fact that Mike hadn't attempted the disguise as he figured Mike would tell him when he was ready. Trust could only be built, not forced.

After a brutal game which Felix won, Mike informed him of the issues he had with concealer, and then he dropped the bomb: that he had thought of canceling his visit with Ace because of his scars.

That would never do, so Felix ordered him to sit at the breakfast bar so he could apply the concealer. Felix brought a small bag to the bar, and dumped it on the counter. He began spreading the items out and organizing it in an arcane pattern that made no sense to Mike. However, Mike did recognize the spackling tools.

"This looks like…" began Mike.

"It is. I tried it out before I gave you. I didn't want you to be disappointed. Ok, moisturizer. If I was the moisturizer, where would I be hanging out? Oh… there you are." Mike reached for it and he was rewarded with a smack to his hands. "No, I'm applying this. Close your eyes."

Mike Peterson closed his eyes. He listened to Felix Blake's muttered comments and he observed him using his Deathlok enhancements; Felix was relaxing; he was normally tense… guarded…

"No, the spackling tool isn't the right tool. Hmmm… sponge….no… let me try this… Mike… let me know if this is too much sensation wise. I know scar tissue can be sensitive."

Felix began applying the moisturizer with his fingertips. It was… gentle… it was...also ... surprisingly sensual. He relaxed as it had been far too long since he had been touched this carefully, as though he was fragile; instead of Frankenstein's lab experiment. And he realized that Felix's vitals were elevating even as Felix's touch grew gentler and slower. Almost… like a caress…

And Mike Peterson remembered a lifetime ago, a tawdry aside by John Garrett about Felix pitching for both teams.

How long had it been for him? Since before his wife had left him when he was injured. Two… three… years? Felix was bi… it seemed he was … **_interested_** … and really… looking the way he did; a scarred mutilated cyborg who was missing a leg… he had feared that only sick fucks would be interested in him… least Felix had always treated him like he was **_human_**.

* * *

Felix Blake was so focused on applying the concealer to Mike's scars that he failed to realize how carefully… how deliberately… he was touching Mike. Slow, long sweeps to apply a smooth base, a light, almost tickle of the brush to blend and then he needed to get the color better, so he used his finger tips to finish blending the colors.

"Almost done," he whispered. "Need to blend. I do really good work, as you look… good...really good."

To his confusion, Felix Blake realized that he **_meant_** that comment. In that way. Even without the concealer…

Oh God, he was a fucking idiot, as he realized that he had a fucking **_crush_** on his asset. Stupid, _stupid_ , **_stupid_**. He knew he had been lonely… and… if Mike ever knew he'd leave… because Mike Peterson was not interested in men, certainly not in a broken old man by the name of Felix Blake.

* * *

"Almost done," Felix whispered in a voice that created weird… but nice… sensations… to Mike's spine and all his electrical pathways. "Need to blend. I do really good work, as you look… good...really good."

Mike opened his eyes then, realized that Felix Blake was **_quite_** within his personal space and that Felix's eyes were dilated. Felix reacted by retreating; though frightened of Mike's reaction.

"I'm sorry, Mike. Did I make you feel uncomfortable? I didn't mean to make you feel… uncomfortable… I hope… we can still work together…." Felix's words tumbled out of his mouth even as Mike backed him into a corner. "I wouldn't do anything…. Wouldn't try anything…. Because… I have too much respect… Mike… say something… please?"

"It's ok… it's ok…" Mike whispered. "I'm not angry. I'm flattered. And… **_interested_** … I just haven't, not since I got hurt."

Blake finally stopped blathering so Mike took a chance. He kissed Felix on his lips. It was a closemouthed kiss until Felix responded. They unhurriedly walked themselves over to Felix's bed, kissing all the way until they were lying on the bed.

Being men, and completely emotionally constipated, they stared at the ceiling. No kissing, no touching. Because Felix was giving him an out; an easy escape if Mike wanted to leave. Well, time to press the issue. Mike cupped Felix's face in his hands and instinctively Felix freaked. The older man physically recoiled, his heart rate skyrocketed and his blood pressure when through the roof. Felix wasn't aroused, he was terrified.

"Don't touch my neck, Mike. I'm sorry, I… I…" Felix panicked. "I know you won't… hurt me… but… not my neck."

The tentative mood, such as it was, was shot to hell. Felix inhaled and exhaled deeply, as he struggled to calm himself.

Mike nodded his understanding that he had ruined the mood. "I'll go."

To his surprise, Felix looked sincerely disappointed. "You're leaving? Because of me? How about… I take care of you tonight? I **_like_** taking care of you. Why don't you just make yourself comfortable, and I can take this slowly. It's your first time…isn't it?"

Felix paused and Mike continued for him. "Go ahead, you can say it. It's the first time since Raina sunk her claws into me," admitted Mike. "Turned me into….Death..."

"Mike, never use that name around me," Felix softly interrupted. "Mike, this is your first time with a guy?"

"Yeah."

"So tonight, we figure out what you like… what you don't like. Like my neck… is a no fly zone… and I'm sure your knee is not something you'd feel comfortable with me touching…" Felix gently prompted. At Mike's slight nod, Felix continued talking and carefully touched Mike's arm. "Tonight, I take care of you. You haven't let anyone take care of you for far too long. Tonight, you just relax… Close your eyes… and relax…"

"Talk to me," Mike requested. "When they experimented on me, they never talked to me… they treated me like I wasn't human."

Felix brushed a kiss against Mike's cheek and in his best seductive whisper, "The Bills won't win unless they get a new coach."

Mike barked a laugh. "You consider that sweet talking?"

Later when a sated and exhausted Mike Peterson had finally decided to sleep, Felix pulled the covers over him. He brushed another kiss against Mike's scarred cheek and then made himself comfortable for what promised to be a long night of introspection.

 _"What the hell do I tell Coulson?"_


End file.
